Chemistry
by we4retheincrowd
Summary: Of all the things Bonnie wants to do, going to a rock concert with her best friend definitely isn't one of them.


"Oh my god, no."

"Bonnie, _please_." Lady pouts and tugs on Bonnie's shirt sleeve, as if that's going to convince the redhead to do anything she wishes. Bonnie can easily predict that won't happen. She's a very stubborn individual.

Bonnibel shakes her head, "It's not going to happen. I'm not going with you."

"Come _on_ , I've asked everyone else!" Lady exclaims and holds out the tickets in Bonnie's direction, "It's just for a few hours. I really want to go and Mom won't let me go by myself."

"Can't you take Jake? He _is_ your boyfriend, after all." Bonnie folds her arms across her chest and leans back in her seat. She's aware that she has some obligations as a best friend, but _surely_ going to a concert for a band she doesn't even _like_ isn't one of them. "You'd have fun with him. I'll just sulk the whole time."

"Doesn't matter," Lady dismisses her excuse, "I just need someone to come with me. Besides, I think you need a break from all the studying you're doing." She gestures across to Bonnie's desk as if to prove a point, and even Bonnie has to admit that _alright,_ it's pretty cluttered.

After considering Lady's point for a few seconds, Bonnie shakes her head again. "I've already told you, I don't want to go to a concert. I don't want to waste my time on some obnoxious rock band who probably don't care about their fans anyway."

"It's not _just_ a concert, Bonnie!" Lady reiterates, "It's a concert _and_ meet and greet. Come on. I know multiple people that would _kill_ to meet the Scream Queens."

"Why don't you ask them to go with you, then?" Bonnie shoots back with a sarcastic smile. She doesn't like this band, so she shouldn't go. That would be a waste of a ticket. She'd probably just stand at the back and play iPhone games until the end of the show. "I don't want to see them."

"You're the only person that's free at such short notice." Lady explains, pulling her attempt at a puppy-dog face, "I don't get why you don't want to see them. They're the most popular band in the country right now. It took me forever to get tickets for one of their concerts and now I won't even be able to go because my Mom won't let me go alone."

Bonnibel huffs. She has to admit that Lady is slowly breaking her down. "I don't care for rock music. Besides, they're probably just obnoxious jerks who want nothing more than alcohol and sex. I don't want to meet them."

"But I _do_!" Lady persists, "And I'll have you know that they're really sweet people. Keila actively donates to charities and advocates for LGBT rights," Lady pauses to prod Bonnie for emphasis, "and Bongo -"

"Okay, okay, _fine_ ," Bonnie sighs, taking one of the tickets from Lady's hand, "I'll go with you, but don't expect me to talk to them when you freeze up."

Lady squeals and throws her arms around Bonnie's midriff, _"You_ are the best friend _ever_. I'll repay you at the concert by getting you a girlfriend."

Bonnie rolls her eyes, "That really won't be necessary. Just buy me an ice cream on the way there and we'll be even."

Lady responds by squeezing her again. "Thanks. We're setting off in an hour so get in something a little less…pink."

Bonnibel looks down at her pink sundress and then back up at Lady with a scowl. "What's wrong with my current outfit? Pink is my favourite colour."

"We're going to a rock concert, Bonnie," Lady laughs like it's the most obvious answer in the world, "You'll stick out like a sore thumb in that."

Bonnie just sighs, "Fine. I'll put some jeans on and maybe borrow a polo shirt from my Dad. Is that rock concert acceptable?"

"Yes, just hurry up," Lady prompts her as she stands up and makes her way out of her bedroom, "I want to get there as early as I can to get into the meet and greet first. I want first dibs on Guy."

Bonnie peers back around her doorframe. "You have a boyfriend."

"I know that!" Lady assures her, "Guy's my favourite member. He's so cool and he's really good at playing the keyboard. Marceline's an amazing singer, too. Do you think she'd teach me some techniques?"

Bonnie just rolls her eyes and slips out of the room to change.

* * *

Lady is practically bouncing as they line up outside of the venue, barely even registering the harsh bite of the November cold. Bonnie has to laugh at her as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets, and admits to herself that making her best friend this happy is worth the next few hours of impending boredom.

Although Bonnie doesn't care for this band, apparently a lot of others do. There's a line that stretches for around two blocks to get into the venue for the actual concert, which doesn't start until seven. Thankfully, the meet and greet line is only around thirty people long, and it's already started moving. Bonnie has to admit that she hadn't expected there to be this many people. Maybe she should've stayed home and focused on her studies. That's what she usually spends her time doing.

She feels Lady grab onto her arm and pull her into a building that _thankfully_ has built-in central heating, and she pulls her hands from her pockets and sends her nervous friend a smile. "You'll be fine."

"What if they don't like me? What if I mess up and act weird?" A look of pure horror crosses Lady's face and she all but screeches, "What if I look bad in the photos with them?"

Bonnie laughs lightly, "If you think you look bad, then I'll go with you and ask for a do-over. Sound good?"

Lady breathes a sigh of relief, "Did I ever tell you that you're amazing?"

"Numerous times in the past hour or so." Bonnie confirms, smiling, "I'll find myself a seat somewhere while you talk to them and get your posters signed and things. If you need me I'll be there."

Lady nods as they're directed into a large room which already has a lot of people in it – a lot more than the thirty or so Bonnie had estimated while in the line – who were swarming around four people Bonnie guessed to be the band members.

She spots a couch and gives Lady one last smile before crossing over to it and sitting down, picking at her pink nail varnish as she waits for her friend to get autographs and photographs.

She looks up a few times to see Lady talking to a boy with shaggy, dirty blond hair in a grey t-shirt and assumes that he's the keyboard player she was rambling about earlier. Guy or something. She has no idea what these band members look like. Almost every person in the room could be one of them, with their various tattoos and piercings.

She doesn't bother looking the band up. She has no interest in meeting a bunch of punk-rockers. If she could meet anyone, she'd pick a famous scientist, preferably one with an interest in chemistry. That's what she specialises in. Maybe if someone found a way to resurrect Marie Curie, she'd go and meet her. _That_ would be amazing.

She lets out a sigh of relief when the couch dips beside her. "Lady. Thank goodness you're finished. I was getting bored picking at my – oh…" She glances up to see a raven haired girl who definitely isn't Lady sat next to her, "Um…hi. Sorry, I thought you were my friend."

"No worries," The girl sends her a toothy, lopsided grin, "I just came over because you looked bored. I can leave if you want."

Bonnibel searches the girl's emerald green eyes for any sort of ulterior motive, scanning over her pale face and that attractive smirk gracing her lips. "No, that's okay. It might be nice to have someone to talk to while my friend momentarily forgets I exist in the presence of these apparent 'rock stars'."

The girl laughs as Bonnie air-quotes that last part, but the redhead doesn't miss the look of shock that passes across the girl's face for a split second. "Judging by that, I'm guessing you don't like the band, then."

Bonnibel allows herself a casual shrug, trying to ignore the _'she has a beautiful laugh'_ that passes through her mind. No, thoughts like that would be inappropriate. "Not particularly. Rock music isn't my thing and bands like this tend to be nothing more than insufferable jerks. I don't understand the hype, but it's not like I've listened to any of their music before."

"Maybe you should. You might get _converted_." The girl lightly nudges Bonnie with her shoulder.

Bonnie laughs, "You make it sound like I'm going to turn into some sort of obsessed zombie. Besides, after this, it's safe to say that I don't think I'll be listening to them."

The girl raises an eyebrow and Bonnie finds herself biting back the ' _you're so pretty'_ that's threatening to fall from the tip of her tongue. "Why is that?"

"Well, obviously they don't actually _want_ to be here." Bonnie looks over at the swarm of fans surrounding the musicians, "I'd bet my high powered microscope that they'd rather be backstage, drinking alcohol and making out with groupies than talking to fans."

"High powered microscope?" Bonnie cringes when the girl repeats her. She scolds herself – she should've known better than to let something as nerdy as _that_ slip out while she's talking to a pretty girl. "So I'm talking to a scientist. Are you the next Einstein or something?"

"I'd prefer to be the next Marie Curie," Bonnie replies, "but I'd rather be the first Bonnibel Butler."

"Bonnibel, huh? I'd better remember that. I need to know the name of the girl that's going to lead the scientific revolution." Bonnibel blushes at the girl's compliment, but finds it hard to believe that it's flirting. Nobody flirts with Bonnie. Bonnie is just the girl who hides in the science classrooms behind her glasses and a microscope, her projects always more important than parties and dates.

Bonnibel tries to ignore how red she's turned and be confident, no matter how hard she finds it. If this girl is interested, Bonnie isn't going to pass that up. She's incredibly attractive and it's extremely hard to find other queer girls where Bonnie lives.

"You have my name. Can I get yours?" Bonnie raises an eyebrow, her cheeks burning when the girl smirks.

She takes a moment to reply. "Marceline Abadeer."

It sounds familiar and Bonnie doesn't exactly know why, but she tries to push the weird alarm bells from her mind. It's probably nothing. Even if Marceline isn't exactly a common name, that didn't mean that Bonnie's never met someone also called it.

Bonnie smiles, "It's nice to meet you. What do you do in your free time, then? You know I like science."

"Oh, I…music. I play music," Marceline hesitates as though that's going to give something away, "Bass guitar and vocals, mostly."

"Mostly? You play other things too?" Bonnie asks, leaning forward in her chair, "That's really cool."

Marceline smirks. "I thought all musicians were insufferable jerks."

Bonnie laughs, lightly elbowing Marceline in the side. "Oh, shut up. Obviously you're the rare good kind."

One of Marceline's eyebrows quirks up and hides behind her bangs. "Oh, yeah? Who says I don't drink alcohol and make out with groupies backstage?"

"Maybe you would, if you were famous or something." Bonnie shrugs, unable to wipe the smile from her face. It seems like it's permanent around Marceline. "But you're sweet. I can't see you with a bunch of groupies. I feel like…you'd be more of a small, independent musician. One of those ones that care about their fans and go home after their gigs and watch Netflix."

Marceline laughs. "Groupies and Netflix are mutually exclusive, are they? Didn't know that."

Marceline's teasing her and Bonnie knows it, but it still doesn't stop her from blushing. "I didn't – that's not what I meant. _God_ , maybe you _are_ an insufferable jerk after all."

Marceline snorts with laughter and Bonnie flounders, trying to make amends, because calling the girl she's trying to hit on an insufferable jerk really isn't the smoothest thing she's ever done.

Marceline just slings an arm around her, "Cool it with the stressing, nerd. I don't think you're weird."

Bonnie sighs, "I just…I'm not used to this. I'm not the person that gets hit on at rock concerts."

"Who says I'm hitting on you?"

Bonnibel freezes, shifting away from Marceline on the couch they're sat on. That probably ranks in the top five of the ten worst things she's ever said. _Jesus_ , she's an idiot.

She stumbles over her words when she tries to apologise. "I – sorry, I didn't think – I shouldn't have assumed… I really, um – I should just go and get my friend-"

Again, Marceline laughs at her. "You're cute when you get all apologetic and ramble. What would you say if I _was_ hitting on you?"

"Probably ask why," Bonnie admits, kneading her thighs through her jeans with shaky hands, "I really messed things up, didn't I?"

"Not at all." Marceline nudges her again, "I like you. You're…interesting."

Bonnie isn't sure how to take that. Interesting. Not pretty. Hot. Charming. Any of that. She gets _interesting_.

"Um…thank you." Bonnie carefully responds, "You're interesting too. You know, I-"

A breathy voice cuts her off. "Oh my god. Bonnibel."

She looks up, a comfortable smile crossing her face when she comes face to face with Lady. "Finally. It's about time you showed up. Did you get your autographs and stuff?"

Lady just nods her head, staring at her with wide eyes. "Bonnie…you're such an airhead."

Bonnibel blinks at her friend, admittedly a little taken aback. "Um…I really don't have a response for that." She turns to Marceline, nodding up to her friend. "This is Lady. The friend I mentioned. Lady, this is-"

Lady cuts her off again. "That's Marceline Abadeer. You're talking to Marceline Abadeer."

Bonnibel's face sinks into a frown, and everything clicks into place. The name being familiar. 'Oh, I'm a musician'. She turns to Marceline with wide eyes. "You're…you're in the band I said I disliked, aren't you?"

Marceline laughs, "Oops. You caught me."

Bonnibel tries to form a coherent sentence but fails completely. "But I – you didn't – why wouldn't you…"

Marceline shrugs as casually as ever as she signs Lady's poster. "I don't know. It was funny."

Bonnie finally lets out an indignant scoff. She thought Marceline really liked her, and now she finds out that the other girl had just been amused by the fact that Bonnie hadn't recognised her.

"Oh. Well, then." Bonnie had hoped for something a little more threatening, but she's terrible at confrontation. "I guess I'll just…Lady and I will go."

Marceline's smirk dips into a frown. "Why?"

"Clearly you were only talking to me for your own amusement." Bonnibel snaps back and ignores Lady's protests, "But thanks for proving my hypothesis that you're a horrible jerkface musician."

Marceline shakes her head, grabbing onto Bonnie's wrist with her cold hand, "You completely misunderstood me."

Bonnibel freezes, "I did?"

"Yeah," Marceline looks at her again, smiles this time, "I thought it was cute. It's nice not having someone talk to me just because of my music."

Bonnie's stoic expression breaks into a smile, "Oh…well, in that case…I'm sorry for calling you a horrible jerkface?"

Marceline nudges her again, "That's okay." She hesitates for a moment, but continues, "You know…I have a show to play in like an hour, but I could call you afterwards. If…you know, you're cool with that."

Bonnibel just laughs and pulls out the spare pen she keeps in her coat pocket, jotting her number down on the back of Marceline's hand.

She smiles as the other girl stares down at it, as if she's trying to memorise the numbers as quickly as she can. Bonnie finds it adorable.

Bonnie beams as Marceline glances back up at her. "I'd love it if you'd call me."

Marceline smirks at her, all irreverence and cheerfulness and carefree. "In that case, I'll talk to you later."

* * *

Although she'd never admit it, Bonnie plans on waiting by her phone all night when she gets home after the concert. She doesn't have to.

Marceline calls her before she's even left the venue.


End file.
